


The First Snow of Winter

by Harukami



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Cabin Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harukami/pseuds/Harukami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba's not really prepared for what winter looks like in Mink's homeland, but he likes what he sees. Mostly, anyway.</p><p>(It occurred to me that the reconnect setup was perfect for canon cabinfic.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Snow of Winter

When Mink first brings home the rented snowmobile, Aoba scoffs. It's not deliberate, and it's not scornful, but it's his first reaction anyway: Amused disbelief.

"You'll be glad for it when the time comes," Mink says mildly. "The motorcycle won't be useful with the snow."

" _What_ snow?"

"The snow that will come soon."

Aoba looks out the window at the clear sky. Certainly it's been colder lately, but... "So why don't you rent it after it snows? It just seems like a waste of money if you do it this early"

Mink makes a noise in his throat, a slow, amused rumble. "Because if I waited, I'd want one in order to go and rent it," he says.

***

It's less than a week later that Mink's assessment of the weather proves right. Aoba wakes up with his alarm and wanders out in the chill morning air to get breakfast started, only for Mink to hand him a cup of coffee on his way past. 

"You might as well call in to work," Mink says. "Better not to head out with visibility like this."

He's never been the fastest at waking up, but with the coffee cup in his hands, warming them, he slowly shifts his gaze past Mink's work desk to the cabin window there.

Aoba's seen snow before, of course. The snow that fell in Midorijima were small flakes, specks that were easy to mistake for rain and nearly as wet as it, melting when they hit the hot city streets and leaving, at the worst, a brownish slurry along the sidewalks. The snow he's seen in movies has seemed, in comparison, like something unreal, some kind of fantasy world, as unreal as, on the other side of things, the beaches of Hawaii.

It looks less like what he expects snow to look like and more like static. It takes him a moment to recognize it as a result, eyes slowly widening as he stares out at the flickering whiteness.

"That's snow," he says. 

"That's snow," Mink agrees.

Slowly, Aoba takes a sip of coffee, and then puts it down on Mink's work desk as he leans on Mink's shoulders to stare out the window from closer up. His breath fogs the glass, and he scrubs at it with a forearm, almost dreamy. "It's beautiful."

"It'll be more beautiful when it slows down," Mink says. "And more annoying."

"How could it be annoying? It's gorgeous," Aoba says. "It looks unreal."

Mink snorts a soft laugh, affectionate. "Get breakfast started," he advises. "And add more wood to the fireplace."

"I can just cook on the fireplace-top stove," Aoba offers.

"No, use both. We'll want to keep the cabin warm to keep the pipes from freezing."

Aoba does, and, as Mink had suggested, calls work. Nobody answers, so he calls the owner's number, mumbles out an apology in his awkward English.

"Oh, Aoba." She seems almost surprised. "I was just about to call you! I guess you have to get an earlier start, living all the way out there. Yes, we'll be closed today. Check in tomorrow as well, okay? Even if we're open, we'll understand if you can't get in. Stay warm."

He hangs up feeling pleasantly warm from the exchange itself, and, a breakfast hash done, plates it and takes it over to Mink. He eats his own on the sofa, gazing out the window at the flurries, listening to the wind groan. 

***

The snow lets up by that evening -- or, at least, the flurries slow into fat flakes twisting on the wind. The snow doesn't stop falling, but it it becomes visible as individual snowflakes instead of static, movie-like snow, dancing. Wrapped in a woolen homespun blanket with Ren curled up in his lap and watching with him, Aoba gazes out the window in his bedroom with something like wonderment.

Mink knocks on the open door frame and Aoba raises his head, gestures him in. 

"It's incredible," he says. "Like something in my chest is actually hurting, it's that beautiful?"

Glancing past him, Mink makes a noncommittal noise. "It's beautiful," he agrees after a moment. "Though when you've lived here a few years, you'll probably be a bit less excited when it comes on this hard."

Aoba thinks about that, about the idea of _having lived here a few years_ , and shakes his head, smiling. Mink pushes a cup into his hands, warm, and he takes it without question. It is a bit cold in the place today, even with the fireplace burning wood as hot as it can. 

"I don't think so," Aoba says. "This is something I could only experience here with you, after all."

"It's something you could experience many places," Mink says, but Aoba knows that Mink knows what he means, and Mink's nose has flushed a little darker. Mink slowly sits next to Aoba on the bed, holding his own mug, and Aoba leans against him, resting his head on Mink's shoulder. The cups they're holding have a faint citrus smell, and Aoba knows without asking that Mink's trying to ward off any winter sore throats that might come on.

"It's perfect," Aoba says, meaning a few things with it.

Mink says, "Wait until it inconveniences you," meaning, Aoba knows, the weather.

"I'm not that easily troubled," Aoba says, and leans up to kiss him. Ren hops down from the bed and pads into the other room, enough of an understanding that Aoba laughs into the kiss a little, draws a low answering rumble from Mink as he lays him back.

He's plenty warm that night.

***

The next day, Aoba gets up and heads to the bathroom for a shower, only for the water to pour out very nearly literally ice cold. He _screams_ , scrambling out of the tub fast enough that he actually falls, and when Mink skids into the room in a panic, with several Allmates hot on his heels, Aoba's still picking himself up from the floor, swearing frantically. 

"You fell?" Mink asks, sliding an arm around him and starting to pick him up.

Shivering, Aoba clings to him mostly to absorb his body heat. " _Cold_ ," he protests.

"The water...?"

Ren pads over to the tub and puts his front paws against the side. "Judging from the tub's temperature, there isn't any hot water."

"D-did the pipes freeze?" Aoba asks, vaguely recalling Mink saying something about that possibility the day before.

"Water's coming out, so no." Mink wraps a towel around him and leans over to turn the faucet off, shaking cold water off his hand after. "It's probably the water heater."

"The water heater...?"

Mink lifts a brow at him. "There's no electricity," he points out. "How do you think we get hot water? ...I have a water heater on the tank, but it's old at this point. The heavy snowfall may have done it in."

"So no hot water? At all?" Aoba groans.

"Go sit by the fire and drink some coffee," Mink says. "I'll check."

Shivering sulkily, Aoba wraps up and heads out to do just that, both Allmates piling on top of him to help warm him up. Mink heads into his bedroom, emerges a few moments later in what looks like four layers of clothes and a heavier coat than usual, pulls on boots, and heads outside.

When he comes back in, brushing snow off his gloves and shaking it out of his hair, he nods grimly. "Not turning on. I'll pick up a new one in town. If the weather stays clear, I can install it tonight."

Of course, even silent, the corollary is obvious; if it starts to snow heavily again, they'll be without hot water for a while. Aoba glances toward the window. It's blindingly bright out there; it's obvious enough that the sun is out, but beyond that he can't make heads or tails of it. "Ah, shit," he mutters. "I'll have to see if work is open."

"If it is, I'll drive you," Mink says. "You won't be able to walk there with the snow like this."

The snowmobile, of course. "Yeah, yeah," Aoba says. "You told me so."

***

Work is in fact open, and while the owner says that Aoba doesn't have to come in, he decides that he might as well; Mink has to go in regardless to buy a new water heater, and he feels bad about the idea of missing a day if it's avoidable.

"Hm," Mink says, but doesn't argue. He does, however, force Aoba to wear a heavy hat and mitts, both too big for him, and he protests about how it makes his hair feel stuffy. Mink doesn't argue back, just waits, and Aoba puts them on.

When he steps outside, all his crankiness temporarily vanishes, a sense of awe rushing in its place. The snow -- easily up to his knees already -- doesn't look anything like the snow of Midorijima. It settles like a thick blanket, unbroken except for the line where Mink had walked around the side of the cabin to check the tank. It seems impossibly pristine, and it's not just the biting cold that takes his breath away.

"I keep thinking this is unreal," he blurts out, when Mink calls him over to the snowmobile.

Mink looks at him evenly for a long moment. "Is it better as a fantasy or a reality?"

"It's sort of both right now," Aoba says.

He's grateful for the hat and mitts on the trip in. While the snowmobile makes traveling across the snow easier, the wind whips into his face with an intensity that feels nearly cutting. He presses his face to Mink's broad back and just tries to wait it out.

The owner is surprised when he stumbles into work, and while it's open, it ends up being a very quiet day, only a few people coming in when they have to, walks needing to be shoveled before anyone can get anywhere comfortably. Aoba leaves his boots, and the borrowed mitts and hat, on the heating register, and drinks the hot chocolate that the owner keeps coming, and the two of them mostly spend the time chatting, Aoba practicing his vocabulary as he tries to explain how different the weather is from what he's used to, how something can simultaneously be so breathtaking and so foreign and hard to understand.

"Oh, well, you get used to it in these parts," the owner says. Then, chidingly: "You didn't take any whipped cream," and Aoba has to open his coil to look up the words for 'lactose intolerance', because while normally he'd go along with it, he doesn't want to think about the snowmobile ride back with his stomach hurting. 

***

Aoba cooks dinner while Mink installs the new water heater. He touches the window at one point, wiping away condensation from the cooking, and the chill of it through his fingertips makes him wonder how cold Mink is out there. He probably can't wear his heavy gloves while doing the actual installation, and that's going to be all ice-cold water held by metal out there. 

When Mink finally comes in, his nose and cheekbones are visibly reddened from the cold, and he has his hands thrust deep into his pockets. Aoba removes the pan from the stove top, and comes over to take Mink's hands. They're icy, as he expected, and he takes a deep breath, steeling himself, then sticks them under his shirt. Despite his best intentions, he yelps.

Mink lets out a breath in a rush. "What," he says.

"They're cold."

"Now _you're_ cold."

"Well. Now I can take a hot shower to warm up."

Mink laughs, quiet and under his breath as always, and leans down, kissing the top of Aoba's head. "Let the heater do its work first." Then, "I thought you might hate things like this."

"Like winter?"

"Little moments. Things that were different. The cold. The inconvenience. The harshness."

That's not just what Mink means. Aoba knows it, thinks about how to respond, finally sighs, smiling. Mink's hands are slowly warming on his ribs.

"I love it," he says.


End file.
